MILTON

"Yo, Milt, I'm goin' out huntin', throw down the ladder, will ya?" called Daryl as he approached the west guard platform.

Milton shouldered his rifle, unraveled the rope ladder, and helped Daryl up the last few rungs of the wooden one connected to the side of the platform. He saw that Daryl had his coat with him as if he expected to be caught out in the cold at some point even though it was a relatively warm day for January.

"Big game, or small?" asked Milton.

"We'll see. Saw some deer yesterday about a mile out, gonna try for a doe if I can. Be back by sundown," said Daryl as he lowered himself over the other side of the wall and started off into the woods.

Milton was just pulling up the last bit of the ladder when Andrea came up and joined him to switch out positions. Without a word, Milton handed her his rifle and binoculars, but as he made to leave, Andrea spoke in a rare occurrence since Milton had shut her out.

"I was babysitting Judith when I remembered it was my turn for duty, so I left in a hurry. Merle's with her now, but she does better with you, so if you wouldn't mind taking over until Beth or Carl can get to her…"

"Okay."

Once upon a time the words "babysitting Judith" would have installed terror within him, but by observing Beth and Parker caring for the baby and gradually building up to the role of babysitter himself, Milton found that he didn't mind in the least now. Also, he was all the more eager to go to her when he knew that Merle had been left in charge of her. Judith didn't dislike Merle, but Milton didn't agree with Merle's babysitting methods like putting her in the carrier strapped to his back while on patrol or trying to give her adult food instead of mashed whatnots and formula.

He heard Merle before he saw him.

"Why is it that every time I'm stuck with you, you've just taken a massive shit? Where the hell d'they keep your diapers, kid?"

As Milton stood in the doorway, he was actually slightly amused at the sight that welcomed him. Merle had Judith resting on his hip and her drool towel draped over his shoulder as he searched the room for her diaper bag, swearing every time a new location yielded nothing. Glad that the baby could not yet form coherent speech, much less understand any words, Milton stepped into view and held out his arms.

"Give her to me."

It was the first time he had spoken to Merle in over a month and the first time the two had been alone in the same room in two. In fact, the last time they had been within four feet of each other was the day Hershel and Rick agreed to keep them separated for the good of the group. Merle was slow to look up at him from where he knelt rummaging in the DVD cabinet, but at this point, if he tried to say or do anything that violated the terms, he would suffer consequences and with it being about mid-January, it was the worst possible time to be thrown out of Groverfield.

Merle handed Judith to Milton and tossed the towel at him where it landed quite neatly on his shoulder. Milton set her on his own hip opposite his pistol and resumed the search for the diaper bag. As he leaned to look behind the giant armchair, he felt his pistol leave its holster and stood back up, rotating on the spot to face Merle. Surely, Merle wouldn't shoot him now, what with the baby in his arms? But then again, no one had the right to be sure of anything where Merle was concerned.

As it so happened, Merle was simply switching the safety on before he stuck the weapon back into Milton's holster. Milton must have forgotten to do it himself after his turn at patrol. Without a word, Merle left, and Milton went over to the next room to look for the diaper bag. He was still in search of it and trying to keep Judith's fussing to a minimum when Maggie found him and led him to Rick's room where four drawers from the dresser were filled with baby supplies. Milton would never have thought to check here since he was rarely upstairs in the Grimes and Greene house.

Maggie took sympathy on Milton's clumsy way with the diapers and wipes and thankfully changed Judith herself, applying rash powder for the baby's comfort. Milton tried not to gag on the smell, something that he, unlike Merle, had been lucky enough up to this point to not have experienced in full. Snapping Judith's onesie back up, Maggie made a few nonsensical sounds to amuse the baby and gave her back to Milton.

"That day in the prison when I first saw you sittin' there with Beth and the baby, I was ready to stab your eyes out. I didn't want you anywhere near my sister or Judith, and I was wonderin' that why you were there since you didn't look like y'wanted to be," said Maggie, clapping Judith's hands together as the baby giggled.

"Thank you for your self-restraint," said Milton.

"I'd trust you with both've their lives now," said Maggie. "And I'm sorry that I ever judged you based off've what I knew about the Governor. I should've said it when I saw that you'd left him and left the one place you felt safe to come to the people who'd shot at you in the arena. I'm sorry for the things I said to you at the cabin. You're a good man, Milton, and I'm glad you're here."

Feeling that it was expected of him to say something of equal significance to her in return for her declaration of acceptance, Milton said the first thing that popped into his head, which probably wasn't the best subject to bring up, especially since the last time he had spoken of it, Maggie had pulled a gun on him.

"I'm sorry that my actions brought about the turn of events that caused Glenn's death."

Maggie faltered only slightly before responding. "I'm sorry the two've you didn't get the chance to know each other better. I know he would've forgiven you too and that you'd have agreed on a lot've things. But I'm better now. I'm not the way I was, but I'm happier."

"Hans has helped with that, I presume."

After he said it, he realized (given Andrea's lessons on sensitivity in conversation) that that was a very bold and inappropriate statement, but Maggie smiled slightly.

"Yeah, he has. He's been good to me, very kind, and understanding."

"Did he tell you about his wife, then?"

"He did, and that mutual loss has helped us get to know each other better. It helps to have someone, y'know? Just someone who'll be there and listen to anythin' you wanna say, no matter how stupid or selfish it is. When there's so many emotions goin' through your head on a daily basis, you can't hold that in or it'll break you."

Milton nodded absentmindedly in agreement until he realized that Maggie was giving him a deliberate look.

"What?"

"Andrea," said Maggie. "She's that person for you, and you need her."

"We thought it best to go our separate ways for the time being," said Milton.

"No, you decided that. I'm not sayin' what she said was justified, but she loves you and even the people who love you say things they don't mean. I think she wants to talk to you about it, but she's afraid to push you even further away, so you'll haveta make the first move on the road to healin'."

With those words of wisdom, Maggie returned to her chores so that Milton had to try and get an answer out of the baby to make up for the one he didn't get from Maggie. Milton had only ever heard himself and Merle speak to Judith like an adult because he thought that if babies were to grown and excel in brain activity that they needed to be spoken to with maturity and Merle just didn't give a shit.

"I don't suppose you'd know the best way to start a sincere apology, would you?"

Judith made an educated blrrrrghhhb sound and a dribble of drool came out of the side of her mouth as she gave a toothless grin. Milton had to use the towel to wipe her chin and then set her against his shoulder to try and burp her.

"Thanks anyway."

He walked around the house with her in this position, counting windows and trying to estimate how many boards of wood would be needed to secure each of them in case of an attack. It was only when he saw his reflection in the microwave window did he see that Judith was asleep and he crept back upstairs to lay her down on Rick's bed and cover her with a throw blanket.

He felt someone's arm slide across his throat and in a brief moment of panic, went for his gun, but then he heard Parker's stifled laughter as he ruffled Milton's hair. Milton understood this to be what other people called a "noogie", but he didn't understand the concept. It was meant to be an action of endearment between friends, but the receiving friend ended up with a sore spot on the top of head. Still, when he would have gone into a fit months ago, he now only had an elevated heartbeat and wriggled out of Parker's hold in a way that he hoped wouldn't offend him.

Even more unexpected than this surprise faux-strangle was Beth sliding her arm around Milton to hug his waist and resting her head against his shoulder. Had it been anyone but Beth, Milton would have assumed that Andrea had told that person to continue showing Milton gentle and practiced attention, but as it stood, Beth was just like that with everyone. She wasn't afraid to be affectionate, something Milton felt was good not only for the baby and Carl who needed a nurturing figure in their lives, but for Parker as well. And, by a longer shot, Milton himself because he and Andrea were no longer speaking, but Beth never held back or missed the opportunity to drop a kind word his way or hug him out of the blue.

Instead of anticipating it with dread and resenting it, Milton found himself looking forward to these small actions from her. He didn't know what it meant to love a sibling, but he could see it in how Maggie and Beth, Carl and Judith, and to an extent, Merle and Daryl acted with each other. Beth had adopted that sort of mannerism with him, so he guessed that she had taken him into her family which brought a warm sensation to Milton's chest. If there was anyone he thought that he could look out for and care for as a sibling would, it would be Beth.

So he hugged her back before leaving her and Parker to watch over Judith so that he could help Rick with the plowing for the vegetable fields. As the two of them laid out dimensions and calculated where each crop would be grown, Rick nodded back towards his house.

"I saw a big change in there," he observed. "I've never seen you hug someone before."

"Is it really so strange to see me doing that?" asked Milton. Was everyone on the lookout for signs of emotional improvement from him?

"Considerin' that I thought the break with you and Andrea would put you back on the path to the loathin' of human contact, yeah, it's strange. Don't get me wrong, it's a good thing, but no one was expectin' that."

"Do you want a hug now?" Largely due to Merle and Daryl's expert use of sarcasm, Milton had learned how to use it with confidence and not in a way that hurt anyone.

"I'm good, thanks."

The two of them worked at plowing well on into the day and only when they had about an hour left before sundown did they stop so that the back of Milton's neck felt rather sunburned and he had blisters on his hands. He went to wash up in the kitchen where Hans was preparing some canned pumpkin-something to go with whatever Daryl managed to catch and Andrea was cleaning the dishes from the night before. She finished in a hurry and left. Seeing Milton's hands, Hans handed him some antiseptic cream and bandaids.

"Blisters are a rite of passage," he told Milton as Milton struggled to wrap a bandage around the dip between his fingers. "They make the skin tougher than it was before and give your hands a story to tell. Every scar and imperfection has a history behind it."

"Fascinating," said Milton, crumpling up one of the bandaids that had gotten too slippery with the cream and was now useless.

"Oh, give it here," said Hans, taking the supplies from him to tend to the blisters. "You could have asked Andrea for help, you know."

"I try not to."

God, was everyone going to give him unwanted advice about her today?

"Because you don't know how to apologize or because you think she won't accept yours?"

Milton shot Hans a dirty look because that was actually exactly what he was thinking, but he had hoped he wasn't so obvious.

"If I may, I'd like to offer you a few pointers to not completely fuck yourself over when you decide to attempt this. Get her on her own and don't have anything like a table between you. Be completely honest and sincere when you tell her and keep eye contact. Say it with feeling, not logic. Use people words, not that mumbo-jumbo you used in your lab. Talk to her like she's your friend and not an acquaintance. And for the love of God, don't say 'I apologize'. Saying the actual word 'sorry' carries more weight because it comes from the heart and not the mind."

If Hans's words were to be believed, Milton needed to basically pretend that he was an emotionally driven individual which was about as easy as shedding his skin and shriveling out of his body to enter a new one. But he had to try at least because he couldn't stand not talking to Andrea any longer. The stony silence that followed their every glance, the horrible feel of abandonment when he could hear her crying in the middle of the night and knowing that he couldn't go to comfort her, the dark cloud hovering over him that something might happen to prevent him from apologizing and having to live or die knowing that he had never gotten the chance to express his regret.

He figured that after dinner was as good of a time as any since it wouldn't be followed with the two of them having to sit at the table and endure each other's sideways stares. It was already difficult enough sitting through dinner when Hans, Michonne, and Parker had to carry the conversation half the time since the other half of the household's occupants were not on speaking terms with one another. But he never got to apologize after dinner because dinner never happened.

Merle walked came into the house at dusk calling for Daryl, but when his brother didn't come to his summons, he tried over at the Grimes and Greene residence. He then went to check all the patrol platforms and finally ended up in the middle of Groverfield with everyone gathering around him to ask why he was shouting at the top of his lungs.

"The hell's wrong with you?" asked Rick. "Relative silence. That's been mandatory for everyone for months and suddenly you forget the importance've that?"

"Where's Daryl?" Merle demanded.

"Still out huntin'," said Maggie. "Where else would he be?"

"He said he'd be back by sundown and lookee there, the sun's gone down," said Merle, pointing his bladed appendage to the west. "My brother's prompt; he gets back when he says he'll get back and he ain't here."

"Probably just got held up," Michonne proposed. "If he caught big game, it'll take a while to carry it back. That, or he's up in a tree waiting out walkers."

"He said sundown," Merle insisted.

"That's true. Daryl told me he'd be back by now," Milton added.

"Y'saw 'im?" asked Merle.

"Yes, I was on watch duty when he left."

"Which way'd he go?"

"Um…"

"Which way, Milton?"

The use of Milton's given name instead of a nickname and the fact that Merle had actually used any variation of it was a big progressive step to go in two seconds, but it wasn't this that registered so clearly with Milton. He felt Merle's hand as it grabbed his shirt with a sense of urgency to know what had become of Daryl. Merle wasn't even aware of what he was doing or that Hershel had forbidden him from touching Milton in any way that might be mistaken for hostility. This was not hostile, though; this was fear, fear for Daryl.

"He went straight into the woods, but he had his coat with him," said Milton. "I think he expected that he might have to spend the night out there and he was prepared for it. I wouldn't worry about him just yet; he's been gone for days at a time before."

"But he'd've said that he was gonna be gone a few days."

"This's Daryl we're talkin' about here, Merle," said Rick. "He's fine, I know he is. We'll just keep an eye out for him and he'll be back tomorrow."

But Merle didn't believe that. Merle was an alarmist and even more of a pessimist than Milton. As Daryl's brother, it was only natural for him to feel a sense of unease, but Milton interpreted that where the others couldn't or chose not to. Something had prevented Daryl from coming back and it wasn't biters.